


Unlucky Fortune

by lollystar888



Series: Lorien Legacies: What If? [1]
Category: The Lorien Legacies - All Media Types
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 09:37:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lollystar888/pseuds/lollystar888
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Heart beating fast, I put all my effort towards reaching the other side of the ravine... and miss the opposite ledge by one or two inches." What if Three had survived? Through one unlucky event, he finds himself the most fortunate person on earth. Four never becomes John Smith, Adam doesn't stay in Kenya, and many other things are altered. First in my 'What If' series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**What if... Three had Survived?**

**Three**

 

One moment I was lying in my cot, covered by a mosquito net and thinking about how I would beat Ren at Basketball tomorrow. The next my Keeper was dead and I was running for my life. They found me. Somehow, some way, they'd found me. The Mogadorians had found me. But in that moment I didn't really care about how they found me; I cared about my survival, and my survival alone.

That's when I heard it. An eerie, bone chilling growl, the likes of which I had only ever seen in my nightmares (memories?). I never believed I would ever see one on earth, one of the monsters that destroyed my world, stole my life – a _Piken._ A terrifying, ghoulish creature with enough strength, speed and power

My first memory is of a Piken killing seven Loric children, they would have been my age, or older, by now. Sometimes, when I'm alone I wonder what life would be like if I was on Lorien, if I had a name and not a number, if I was just normal Garde that didn't have to keep his race alive and fight viscous aliens who wanted to kill him. What it would be like if I wasn't Number Three, next in line to die and royally screwed.

Ahead of me, I see the ravine and my heart drops. I have three choices: stay here and let them kill me, jump across and fall three hundred feet to my death, or jump across and reach the other side of the ravine where I might have a slight chance of survival. The third option is the one I desire most. But it's an impossible leap; there's no telling whether I'll make it or not, even if I am a Garde. It would be hard for the others too.

But as the heavy, clambering footsteps increase speed behind me, I decide that it's my only option. If I had to choose between murder and suicide, I'd take suicide any day. I'll never give them the pleasure of taking my life. So as the ravine comes closer, I take five steps back and run, take off and fly through the night. Heart beating fast, I put all my effort towards reaching the other side of the ravine... and miss the opposite ledge by one or two inches.

Within milliseconds I'm free falling. _This is it,_ I think, _this is the end._ The ground comes closer and closer, taunting me. The Earth, which has been my home for around ten years, will be the thing that kills me. Yet moments before I smash into the ravine and become a scar on six legs, a miracle happens – I stop. Then I drop onto a small patch of land right next to the river crashing through the Kenyan jungle, a small impact which barely even bruises me. Groaning, I roll over, and horror courses through my veins. Mogadorians are staring down at me... they're blurred, small figures, three hundred feet up, but there nonetheless. They're on _both_ sides of the ravine. With a sickening lurch I realise that if I had made it across the ravine, I would most likely be dead by now. But sheer unluckiness saved my life.

The Mogadorians are laughing. They must think I'm dead. But soon enough they'll come to 'collect' my body and realise the truth. I barely resist the urge to smile at the thought of their reactions; but I'm not out of the woods just yet – if they see me move they'll know I'm alive. They're laughing, snickering, grinning all around. That's when a grief filled screech fills the atmosphere. I cringe inwardly at the inhuman sound and spot one of the Mogadorians, a twenty something year old, staring down at me. A larger, broader figure approaches him from behind and pushes him over the ledge. Why did he scream? Why did the other Mogadorian push him?

He must have done something to anger them, but what? Deciding that the boy could be a possible ally, I tense. When he is one foot above the ground I spring up and catch him. His weight catches me by surprise and we both topple into the rapid river. The next few moments are a blur, the two of us are holding onto each other for dear life. Between gulps of air, the boy manages to splutter a sentence. “You're – you're alive!” I nod, but I can't be sure if he saw me or not. I would have said something but I was too focused on trying to breathe than anything else.

Screams of outrage can just be heard just in the distance, above the roar of the waves, but they're fading quickly. I know in an instant that they're rushing down to the ravine – we have to find a way out of this. But I've followed this river before, it goes straight through the jungle and into the ocean, travelling through miles and miles of deserted land. Even if we do escape, where would we go? They would catch us eventually anyway. So what's the use?

Just as I'm about to give up hope, though, and succumb to the icy waters, there's a flash of red and blue and everything turns black.

 

**Adam**

 

 

I'm running fast – faster than I've ever run. There's a Piken somewhere behind me, and it's catching up fast, along with dozens of other Mogadorians, but for now I'm in the lead. I have to do this. I have to save Three, like I tried to save Two. I have to do this to prove to myself I'm not just any Mogadorian, thirsty for bloodshed. I have to do this for Three, and his Cêpan. I have to do this for the people of this planet. For the humans. For the Garde. For One...

He's only twenty or so feet away – I just have to get to him first and I might have a chance. I'm within fifteen feet when he steps back and runs towards the ravine at an impossible speed. I watch on in horror as his flies over the edge, and tumbles down into the darkness below. There are cheers from behind me – and, to my surprise, from the other side of the ravine. But none of that matters now. I've failed. It's over. Three, Hannu, is dead. I gave up my life today. What am I going to do now? Surely I can't go back home, not after what I confessed to Ivan.

Reaching the edge of the ravine, I peer over the side and see Hannu's body staring wide eyed up at me. One is screaming in my head – or is that me? Maybe it's both of us. It's hard to tell. Footsteps approach from behind. I'd recognise them anywhere but I don't care. “Goodbye, Adamus,” hisses Ivan, and I'm suddenly falling down to the ravine below, as Hannu was just moments ago. I wonder if my death will be swift, like his, or if I'll plunge into the icy river and drown somewhere along the line.

I'm force my eyes shut, waiting for the end to come when my weight is lifted by something – someone – and I topple into the water, for the most part unharmed. Spluttering, I see the face of my saviour and my heart soars in my chest. “You're – you're alive!” Hannu's head bobs slightly, in what I think is nod but I can't be sure as the water is tossing us to and fro as we drift further down the river, wherever it may lead.

We hold on tight to each other, keeping each other upright and alive. If we don't get out of the water soon, my Father and his men will catch up to us, we'll drown, or die of cold. The iciness in my bones is pushing me to the edge of darkness, and then it'll all be for nothing.

That's when a warm blue and red light pours out of Hannu's mouth and surrounds us both. It's blinding and I can't see. What's happening? What is this? Then it hits me – it's got to be one of Hannu's legacies. Whatever it is, anyway, despite blinding me, I'm no longer dying of cold. The light fades quickly, and, still holding on to Hannu, who must have fallen unconscious at some point, I squint as the light has left dots dancing in my eyes.

When my vision clears, it's clear that we're no longer in Kenya. The water is warmer, the sun is at a different position in the sky, and it's daytime. There's also the fact that we're both in the Ocean. Hannu's legacy must have transported us here – but where is here? Holding on to Hannu, I swam towards a pier poking out just in the distance. I pull him to shore, and lie there for a moment panting. Somehow, we're still alive. It should be impossible. But we've done it. I've done it.

 

 _I've saved Number Three._ I'm not a failure.

 

“Okay, now that you've finished being proud of yourself, Mog boy, where the heck are we?” I jump at the voice and turn my head to see One smirking, though the hint of pride and hope in her eyes betrays her true feeling. In the events that just passed, I'd forgotten about her. With a lopsided grin, I pant, “No idea. But Number Three's alive.”

“I can see that, and it's brilliant, but you might want to move him before someone asks you what you're doing.” One motions her head in the direction of a pink house. It's surrounded by palm tree's, something I've only ever seen in One's memories. “Maybe we should ask them where we are.”

One looks at me as if I've grown an extra head. “And just how would you explain the unconscious boy in your arms and the fact you're sopping wet?”

“I'll think of something,” I say, “besides, what's the worst that could happen?” One rolls her eyes but says nothing, and I lift the still unconscious boy with a grunt, making for the house. Careful not to drop Hannu, I pressed the doorbell. The door flies open almost immediately. “Tara -” A blonde boy starts to say, when he sees me. He freezes for a second, not sure what to do.

Gosh, do I really look that bad? “Yes...” One snickers and I ignore her. The boy takes a deep breath in and calls into the house, not taking his eyes off me for a second. It's sort of unnerving. Could this boy know about me? Know what I am?

“ _ **Henri!”**_

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam has a run in with Henri...

**Adam**

 

“ _ **Henri!”**_

 The shout catches me off guard, but I have no time to wonder what it means because Hannu starts convulsing. I rip my eyes away from Blondie and struggle to hold his weight. His erratic movement is making him increasingly hard to support.

My eyes dart towards Blondie and the man now standing beside him (when did he get there?). "Please, can you help him?" I manage to gasp out, giving into the weight as my grasp slipped and I fell backwards. The man, who appeared to be in his fifties, managed to catch Hannu before he went flying. I however, was not as lucky, landing on my bottom with a painful crunch.

"Owww!" I howl, the sharp pain shooting up my back.

One snickers behind me, "Oh, suck it up Adam. Now get up, you look more like an idiot than you already are."

Carefully, I pick myself up and dust myself off. On the ground is a wet imprint of my butt and despite everything I can't help but chuckle. Blondie stares at me as if I've grown an extra head and gained the ability to fly. The man has disappeared with Hannu somewhere inside.

"So... My name is Adam, can come in? I want to make sure my friend is okay. And, I need the toilet." I add, because I do.

Blondie is hesitant but beckons at me to come into the house. "I'm... Steve." He says it as if he doesn't know if it's true or not, and I frown. The house is impressive – I wonder how long he's lived here.

There is a cry of shock from the back of the house, quickly followed by a cry of, “Daniel!”. 'Steve' darts towards the voice. To say he was 'fast' was understatement - he was racing as if his life depended on it, almost as fast as Hannu had been when he was being chased by a fully trained army of Mogadorians. It again makes me wonder about the disgusting nature of my race, my people. A defenceless Kenyan boy against about fifty or so fully-grown-specially-designed-mega-strong practically-weapons-on-legs who want nothing more than to kill everyone on this planet? That's _really_ fair.

How long had it been since Kenya? Not that long away – it felt like just minutes had passed since Ivan pushed me off the ravine.

Shaking my head, I walk in the direction of where I think the voices of the man and Steve are coming. Soon, I come to a cream door. I push it open. The man and Steve are hunched over Hannu who is lying on the couch, scars in full view to everyone. The man twirls around at the sound of the door clicking shut, and before I can blink there's a pistol aimed at my head.

“Daniel, stay there and don't do anything.” The man instructs 'Steve' without moving his eyes.

Wow, these guys really don't take kindly to house guests, do they?

“Put the gun down.” I try, raising my hands in the air.

“Give me one good reason to believe you mean no harm,” The man, who Daniel-not-Steve keeps referring to as Henri keeps the gun aimed at me. His voice is cold and testing, but in a way it's calm, too. His thick accent only adds to the effect. I don't know why, but I have a feeling that this man was a leader at some point in his life.

“I'm not armed, am I?” He still doesn't move the gun.

Sighing, I try to think of something to say that won't get me killed. “Look, if you would put the gun down I can explain everything!” Still nothing. Damn this guy drives a hard bargain. A shoot a look at Daniel, who is standing dumbfounded at the side, looking from Hannu to Henri to the dog to me and looking lost for words.

“ _Please,_ just listen -”

I get no further.

An icy feeling rushes through me and I'm pulled from the real world into a maze of flying multicolours. I've been here before. It's the gateway to One's memories. The sight sends a chill of almost nostalgic memories through me. I spent three years here, with One as my only companion. One! She's got to be the one who's doing this. But how? And, for that matter, _why?_

The memory slowly comes into focus, and the first thing I'm able to see in a One, as a little girl, curled up crying under a table. The walls and floor are a discoloured white, metallic and smooth. Where is this? I didn't see this in One's memories the first time.

“One! There you are!” A man comes into focus, and I gasp. It's a younger version of Henri. He's a Loric. _That's_ why his accent was so familiar. But that makes Daniel a Garde! It explains why he was so freaked out when I showed up at his door.

“Stop calling me that! My name is Luna! Not 'One'.” One sniffles, and Henri sighs, before kneeling down and touching One's shoulder. One flinches and tries to pull away, but Henri isn't having it. I guess some things never change. One wipes her eyes on her sleeve in a way that makes my heart melt. Even as a kid she's cute.

“I'm sorry, Luna, I keep forgetting you're older than the others. They all answer to their number by now.” He pauses, and takes both of petite hands into his, staring into her face. “Luna, I know why you're sad. You saw something that most people wouldn't be able to live with. You've lost so much for someone your age,” One shakes her head sadly.

“No, it's not that Brandon. It's something silly really, you wouldn't get it,” She looks down, eyes shining and I feel a lump in my throat.

Henri hums for her to continue, and the words that One say next bring tears to my eyes. In a quiet, drawn voice, One says, “I'm sad because I'm never going to find someone to love me.”

Henri stops for a moment. “Look at me Luna. We're heading towards a planet Earth. Do you know how many people live on Earth? Seven billion. I promise you one day you'll meet one person, one very special person out of the billions of others who will make you feel happy.

“One day, Luna, you'll find someone who will do anything for you. Someone would rather die than be without you. He'll be your everything, and live for you. I promise.” One's sparkling eyes widen. “Really? You think so?” She breaks out into a grin. “That sounds pretty cool. All for me?”

Henri chuckles and ruffles One's hair. “All for you.” He looks at his watch. “ Well, I hope you're feeling better kiddo, now come on, it's dinnertime and I'm hungry. Coming?” One rubs her eyes and stands up.

“Well, if you're hungry... okay.” I smile at the image of One's innocence. Beside One, Henri does too.“When I meet my everything, Brandon, I'll let you know. Even if it takes me years and years. Promise.” Henri smiles a knowing smile that breaks my heart into a million pieces. He knows – he knows that once they get to earth One is probably going to die, and I can see that the mere idea haunts him.

He knows One will never get the chance.

The memory fades away, and suddenly I'm on One's beach again, the one I think about all the time. One, my One, is on the sand holding her knees and staring out to sea, the waves repeating themselves over and over again in a continuous pattern that reminds me that this isn't real, just a memory. But right now, it feels real.

“So, Luna...” I say, sitting next to her.

One looks up at me and smiles sadly. “Adam. So you saw it,” I nod and she reaches out a hand, brushing my cheek and then trailing them through the motionless sand.

“Did you ever meet him? Your everything, I mean?” One looks at the floor, then at me and smiles the smile that makes me forget how to breathe.

“Yeah, I did.” She smiles. “He was very special,”

My curiosity surprises me. There's another feeling next to it. Longing? “Is it Wade?” Is the first thing I manage to say, my tongue failing me. Wade was a boy One had a crush on while she was alive. One rolls her eyes and laughs loud. “Wade? Of course not, Adam. He was just a hot guy I knew. He was a player, and he got me killed,” I blush at my mistake.

“Can you tell me about them, then?” I ask. I'd like to know who One trusted the most, who would go to the ends of the earth for her.

One twirls her blonde hair between her fingers. “Okay. When I first met him, I thought he was a total idiot. I don't think he liked me very much either... but then I opened up to him, and after a while the walls he built to hide himself fell down and I saw him for who he really was, too. Who he had the potential to be. The side of himself he was hiding from.

“He was special, Adam, very special, just like Brandon said he would be. We became inseparable. He turned against the people he used to care about, just because of me. He gave up his life for me.”

By the time she finishes her monologue, I can't breathe. Because, I get it. It's me. _I'm_ her everything. Plain old Mog-boy Adam. And there's nothing more I would rather be.

One smiles. “Tell Brandon for me, would you? I have a promise to keep,” and then the rainbow tunnel is back and I shoot up, struggling to breathe. Henri is staring at me from where I fell on the ground. The gun is still in his hand, but he looks confused. “You okay down there?” He asks. In reply, I stand up and sway on my feet.

“Yeah, I'm good. Better than I've ever been actually. 'Cause guess what?” I'm euphoric, and Henri's wary expression can't bring me down. “I'm One's everything. I'm Luna's everything.” Henri's eyes widen.

“You... you knew One?” He asks, bewildered.

“No, no, Brandon, I still know her,” His eyes widen at the name Brandon and he staggers back before regaining his composure. Henri places the gun on the table slowly, and says just one word: “Explain,”

I nod, “So you'll hear me out. That's good. Now, stick the kettle on and before we get started, could you point me towards the nearest bathroom? I'm bursting and this is going to be a long, _long_ story.”

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Three wakes up and is very confused.

 

**Three**

 

I groan as I pry my eyes open. What the heck happened? I feel as though my head is being bounced around like a basketball it's pounding so much. Groggy, I force myself to sit up and consequently throw up into a plastic bucket someone has placed on the floor next to me.

_What the bloody hell is going on?_

I can't remember a single thing that could have led me to this situation. All I know is that this isn't Kenya, it can't be, it's colder than I'm used to. Why am I not in Kenya? And, for that matter, _why am I sopping wet?_ Where's Raj? Is he okay?

“Hey, um, do you want anything?” I snap my head towards the speaker of the voice – American by the sound of it. I've never been to America, but many of the aid workers that are centred around the village who give people Malaria jabs and build huts and things are from the states.

Maybe that's who this guy is. Maybe he's an aid worker – or the son of one, at least, from the looks of it he's only a few years older than me – who has been set up by the Mogadorians to kidnap me. It's a long shot – but for what other reason would I be here?

“I'm -” I don't let the boy finish, I'm so set in my theory that I lunge at him, my fist connecting with his face so hard I think I've broken his nose. It gushes with blood as he staggers back and I go in for another attack, using a move that Raj taught me during one of our vigorous training routines. The door to my left opens and I'm startled, swerving to see who my enemy is.

There's a Mogadorian standing in the doorway – an I remember. I remember everything. The sword going through Raj, his last words, (“Run,”), flying through the jungle, falling down the ravine, pretending to be dead, catching the Mogadorian, the light, and then... nothing.

My first instinct is to run, fight, get away, but I don't do any of those things. I just fall back onto the couch and cry, thinking about Kenya, and all of my friends, about Raj and all the things we did together and all the things I never got to say to him.

I think about the day leading up to the moment the Mogs attacked. Waking up early in the morning, making the six mile trek with some of the other villagers and a few aid workers to gather the days supply of water, attending school for Four hours, and then hanging out with my friends playing basketball in the middle of the village, before heading back home to train for a few hours.

When I break out of my bubble of emotion and the tears slow down, I look up to see the boy I punched in the face cradling his nose and the Mogadorian that I rescued are sitting down on two armchairs that have been dragged over from the other side of the room to face me. There's a man leaning against the far wall, too, holding a cup. The other two are holding cups as well, and then I realise that there's a cup on a table near where I'm sitting.

The man notices me looking at it and he says, “I made it for you. It's coffee,” I'm baffled. If these people have kidnapped me, then why am I being offered coffee, of all things?

The Mogadorian looks kind of familiar in this light, and that's when I recognise him – yesterday (I think?) I asked him to play basketball with me.

_How did I not notice he was a Mogadorian?_

Blinking away tears, I look at him and say, “Your name is Adam,” I pause, “and you're not American.” The Mogadorian lowers his head and nods slowly, his smile dropping.

 

**Adam**

 

 

When I walk into the room, Three's awake, and Daniel, who I now know is Number Four, is cradling his nose. It's broken, I know that instantly, having had my own pounded in by Ivan too many times to count.

Ivan. Where is he, now? Crawling the Kenyan riverbank alongside my Father? Or back home, in Ashwood? Does my Mother, or my sister Kelly, know about my betrayal? Not that it matters now – this is my life now. The life of a Loric.

Three turns to look at me and a wave of emotion crosses over his face. For a moment, he's unsure what to do, and then he crumples into a ball, shrieking and crying in a horrific reminder that he's lost everything he's come to love and know.

Daniel looks from me to Hannu, and I shake my head when I see he's still trying to stop his nose bleeding. “Lean forward, it'll stop the bleeding a bit.” He does as I say, and I move over to the other side of the room and drag two arm chairs over to the couch where Hannu is still having a breakdown. Daniel sits down in the right most arm chair, holding a tissue to his nose as he frowns at Hannu's still figure. I sit down in the chair next to him.

Henri walks into the room holding a tray with four cups on it. The tea. He places the tray on the table, picking up and the gun and putting it in his trouser pocket. He hands a cup to Daniel, and then gives one to me.

When I sip it, though, I realise it isn't tea at all, it's coffee. That's another reason to add to my list of reasons to work against my people and save earth: good coffee.

One laughs at my side and says, “Only you, Adam, would try and save the world for coffee. Billions of people dying, my race extinct? Meh. No more coffee? Alert the military!”

I can't help but laugh at her sarcasm. I'm still giddy from what I experienced just minutes ago, in One's memories.

“Why are you laughing?” Daniel asks, and I stop in my tracks.

“N-nothing. It's just... coffee. I really, really like coffee.”

“Coffee. Huh.” Henri shakes his head, grinning. “This morning is just one event after the other,” He eyes Daniel's nose. “The charm, though, that could be a problem. You two being here together have broken it,”

He looks to Hannu, who was finally breaking free from his grief stricken stupor. He sits up slowly, blankly taking us all in. His eyes land on me, and, after a moment, he says, “Your name is Adam. And you're not American.” He states it as a fact – he remembers our confrontation in Kenya. The one where I tried and failed to warn him.

The three Loric are making me slightly nervous, staring at me now, cautious of me, I guess. I ignore it, or at least try to as much as I can, and focus on the current situation.

“Well, er, this is... my name's Adam. I'm a Mogadorian. So... who are you guys?” Being social has never been my strong point, but even I know that was weak.

“Smooth, dude, _smooth._ ” One rolls her eyes.

To my surprise, it's Hannu who answers first. “Uh. Hey Adam. I'm Hannu. Or, you know, Number Three. Can I just ask... who was that guy who pushed you off the ravine? And why did he push you?”

I rub my shoulders, not knowing what to say next. He saw Ivan then. “It's a long story. Really, it is. But what I can say is that the guy's name was Ivan, you spoke to him for a moment when we talked, I think. As for why he pushed me, as I said, it's a long story.”

Hannu's eyes widen. “That was Ivan? We played basketball a while after you went off. The sneaky bastard hit me in the face with the ball. That's how they knew. I'm an idiot.” He breaks off, contemplating his next words. “My friend Ren, he kept saying that he looked like a pale hippo. Damn right he does,” Hannu growls, glaring a hole into the wall.

Henri makes a move then, calling for our attention, “Maybe we should talk more about this later. Daniel?”

Daniel looks at us all and opens his mouth. “I'm Daniel Jones. I am Number Four.” Hannu's coffee cup explodes spontaneously as he registers what Daniel has just said. He's speechless. Both at the fact that he's been in the same room as another Garde for over half an hour and the fact that he made his cup explode. Luckily it appeared the coffee had gone cold, or otherwise we would have been in a bit of trouble.

Henri whistles. “Nice telekinesis. You should take lessons from this guy, Daniel. I'm Henri, his Cêpan. I'm guessing you're not from round here, so I'll let you know now that we're in Florida,”

Hannu's mouth drops open and he looks at me for answers, but I'm just as taken aback by this as he is. “Uh, just a sec, dude. _How on earth_ did we end up in Florida?”

“I don't know. I don't remember much after saving you.”

Hannu raises an eyebrow. “Wait a moment, the way I remember it, _I'm_ the one who saved _you._ ”

I frown. I'm trying to find fault in his words, but I can't. “I... I guess you're right. Well, um, thanks, Hannu.” I feel slightly humiliated by the fact, but my negative feelings are pushed to the back of my mind as I realise the absurdity of this situation. I'm sitting in a room with Three Loric – and so far, only one of them has tried to kill me. It feels unreal.

“We'll get to the details later, Hannu. You, Adam, have a lot of explaining to do.” Henri says, and when he motions for me to continue, I take it as the cue to start my story.

I start by mentioning the days I was just an ordinary Mogadorian, bloodthirsty and callous (it was hard not to grimace at the reproachful and disgusted look of my companions), and of my family, and my culture. I tell them about how I was raised as the son of a Mogadorian General, the indoctrination of my people through Ra's Great Book.

One, sitting unseen to any eyes but me, can't help but look away when I reach the part about her death. Henri is clenching his fists in unspoken rage, and both Hannu and Daniel look horrified. I don't know what's going through their heads, but I know it's something along the lines of ' _that could have been me._ ' The atmosphere in the room is tense, and a silence settles over the room.

Here comes the part I've been dreading the most. The part where The General hooked me up to the machine that sent me into One's memories. When I tell them, my voice is cold and full of disgust that I can't quite hide. From the horrified looks on their faces, I'm not alone.

They hang on to my every word, not interrupting once. I tell them of my time with One, the period of my three year coma. When I mention One's Cêpan, Henri smiles as if remembering something. I tell them of waking up and seeing One's ghost. I tell them of Two, how I tried to save her but in the end had to watch as Ivan stabbed her in the throat. I tell them of how I fell out with my Father, how my Mother was disappointed in me for not killing a defenceless twelve year old.

I tell them of how I spent my time in the two years after that, losing myself in my own world until a suspicious news article found its way into our hands, how a team was dispatched to Kenya, Ivan identifying Hannu as Number Three. I tell them of how I tried to save him, how he fell off the ledge and then saved me, how we ended up here.

When I finish, there is a shocked silence.

Henri takes me in, thinking over my words carefully. I shift uncomfortably under his gaze and eventually he says, “I believe you,” I sigh in relief. If he didn't... I don't want to think about it. “For now. I find it hard to believe you made that up on the spot,”

He turns to Hannu. “I might be wrong, but I think I might know why you ended up in Florida,”

Hannu, quiet and thoughtful, perks up at this information. “Really? How?”

“A legacy, and a rare one at that. Even rarer than invisibility, and that's saying something. It's called Chronos. It allows you to travel through and stop time.”

Hannu grins widely. “You're kidding, right? I can stop time? But how does that explain why we're in Florida?”

Henri looks Hannu in the eye, crossing his arms. “That's part of the legacy, actually. In life threatening situations, Chronos allows the Garde using it to transport to the nearest time window of someone close to them. I'm willing to bet your newly awakened Chronos took you here because you and Daniel are next to each other in the charm.”

 

**Four**

 

I'm still trying to figure out at which point my morning went from 'moderately normal for a teenage alien' to 'Number Three is on my living room couch and there's a Mogadorian drinking coffee and telling me his life story'.

Not that I'm not okay with it, I totally am. Sort of. Besides the fact that the charm is broken and I haven't got any legacies yet, my nose is still bleeding and a member of the alien race that destroyed my planet is sitting just a few feet away from me, drinking some instant coffee that Henri picked up at a Walmart a few weeks back, insisting that he can see the ghost of a dead girl that's in this room right now. Okay, so maybe I'm a little shaken by it all. Wouldn't you be?

Henri laughs. “Well, things have certainly heated up fast. I knew we'd all meet up someday, but I never thought it would be like this,” I don't know why, but I also get the feeling that Henri didn't expect to live to see it, and I feel a shoot of horror at the thought of losing him. I sympathise with Hannu – who is Number Three and sitting on my couch. _Sitting on my couch._ I just can't imagine the thought of losing someone like Henri.

“A rogue Mogadorian who likes coffee and a time stopping Garde showing up. I don't know how this day could get any weirder.”

When he says that, of course, the gecko on the ceiling that's been observing us the whole time decides it's had enough just watching us and drops onto the floor before turning into a dog.

Huh. I guess it can get weirder, Henri.

 


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, it's Nine! And he's in trouble... heh heh.

 

**Nine**

 

Chicago, I have to say, is the best city on earth. I've lived here for five years with my Cêpan, Sandor, in a penthouse in the John Hancock Centre, living in complete and utter comfort slap bang in the middle of one of the most lively cities in the states. Also boredom, among other things.  
  
So hey, you couldn't really blame me when I decided to play it wild for just a moment. If you were faced with the chance to put everything you've been preparing for into practise, just for a minute, wouldn't you take it? An opportunity to find out what you're actually going to be doing at some point in the future.  
  
I'm running through the lively city, the wind whipping through my wild hair as I scale the Michigan lake front. Behind me, among various people, a Mogadorian scout trails me, unaware I'm leading him into an elaborate trap which my brain cooked up on the spot.  
  
My iPod - which has been tampered with so that it doesn't actually play any music and instead alerts me if any Mogadorians are in the immediate area - rumbles periodically, reminding me he's there, as if I would suddenly forget and stop for a coffee and a slice of pizza along the road.  
  
Gradually, I increase speed, and the Mogadorian chasing me is forced to pick up his pace. The image fills me with a sick glee.  
  
When I reach the John Hancock Centre, I slow my pace, letting my pursuer catch up to me. Even though I've been expecting it, it doesn't stop the instinctive flinch when the Mog puts a gun between my shoulder blades.  
  
" _Keep moving,_ " It hisses at me. He thinks he's the one in control of this situation. Hah. What an idiot. But despite knowing better, I play along with him, let him believe what he wants. The end result will be the same either way, nothing he or I can do can change that.  
  
The security guards smile at me as I pass through the doors to the elevator and I return the gesture with a slight wave of my left hand as I use my right to press the button for the 100th floor. When the elevator doors close, the Mog pulls away but keeps his gun trained on me.   
  
He pushes me against the side of the elevator and I brace myself for the impact, even though I know that as long as the Loric Charm holds, nothing can hurt me, especially not a stupid Mogadorian with an oversized head full of ideas of how to kill me.  
  
Except...  
  
Except the Loric charm doesn't take effect. Pain shoots up my back and I can't breathe. It's all I can think about - even though I'd braced myself, I've never actually felt this much pain before, and it's shocking. I sink down the elevator wall against my will as my mind, flustered, struggles to come up  
  
The Mog steps back for a moment, as if he's surprised.  
  
"Well I never... _Number Three?_ Oh. Oh, this is brilliant. Absolutely fantastic. So that's why the attack in Kenya failed. They thought he was Three, but he wasn't, was he? You were right here all along, weren't you? Hiding like the cowardly Loric scum you are,”  
  
Kenya? No time to think on the matter, I have to find a way to get out of this situation and fast. All of a sudden I'm up on my feet again and lunging at the Mog. He slams against the wall of the elevator but it isn't enough to stop him, not in the least. He's up again in an instant, firing a few quick shots of his gun.

Many of them miss me, scorching the elevator wall beside and above me. The only thing stopping me from throwing out an insult about his horrific aim is the fact that some of the shots are aimed in the right direction, only stopped or held in place by my telekinesis. If only I could continue doing this until the elevator reaches the penthouse. At least then I'll have access to a weapon, and better yet, Sandor.

The Mog howls in anger and aims his gun downwards, and before I can react, I'm in total agony.

I'm cursing myself for being so stupid - I knew something could go wrong and I did it anyway, and I'm about die. What will Sandor do without me? Guilt begins to eat away at my insides. I didn't even think twice about Sandor. Oh, if I get out of this alive he's going to give me shit about it.

I quickly look around the elevator and find the control pad. Despite the agonising pain I haul myself across the elevator. But before I can reach it, I'm violently kicked back into the corner and pinned to the floor, the Mog scowling at me as . My blood pumps even faster, the blood in my legs pooling underneath me as it leaks out of my wound is sporadic bursts. My eyes dart about, landing on the digital screen displaying the floor numbers. It isn't much, but it's better than seeing the Mog's triumphant gaze.

 

_**95...** _

 

I can hear the smug tone in the Mogs voice as he promises pain and oblivion to me.

  
_**96...** _

  
  
The Mog aims his blaster at my chest.  
  


  
_**97...** _   
  


I hear the whirring of the gun charging up.  
  


_**98...** _

 

I struggle under his foot, trying to escape.

  
_**99...** _

  
The lights in the elevator begin to flicker and dim, the Mog giving a surprised yelp as an instinctive piece of my being reaches out to the world around me, the gun melting in the Mogs hand and the light exploding out of the glass, striking the Mogadorian.

  
 _ **100...**_  
  
The last thing I see before I pass out is Sandor's face as the Mogs lifeless body shrivels into ash.

 

**/- - -\**

 

When I come to, I realise that I'm moving. And boy, does it hurt. Everything hurts. My head pounds and my left leg feels numb. I let out a tortured cry against my will. "Oh. You're awake, then." Sandor looks back at me and I wince at his expression. It's a cross between relief and concern, and anger and disappointment. We're in the car he adapted to have different skills. The windows beside me do not show Chicago, however, but trees and a deserted road.

Sandor must catch my confused gaze because he slows the car down. “You've been out for about a day, Nine,” My eyes widen at this statement. “Don't be so surprised, dude. You were shot in the leg, god damn it. I didn't know if you were going to make it. I carried you down the fire escape myself, I carried you to the car and dressed your wounds as best as I could, but you didn't wake up. I drove out of the city and haven't stopped since,”

Sandor is white as he stops the car, pulling into a gas station next to a sign that says, **“Welcome to Athens, Ohio!”** It scares me, because I've never seen him in such a state, and it leaves me nauseous. I gag and open the door, attempting to stand up as Sandor cries out, "Stop, Nine! Don't -" Too late. Pain ripples through me before I can tell what's happening, and I crumple to the ground, out for the count once again as I hear concerned voices shout for help in the distance.

 

 


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nine gets a nasty shock!

**Eight**

 

 

_High in the Indian Himalayas, 8220 miles away from Florida and 7400 miles away from Ohio, Number Eight shivers unconsciously in his sleep as the painting on the cave wall behind him, a detailed image of a dark skinned boy in a jungle, ripples and changes to be replaced by that of a burning building, smoke billowing from the middle. The images following it begin to tremble and crack, turning to dust, the set future no longer certain._

 

_Number Eight would not recall that the panels had existed when he woke up, as he would also be certain the third picture had always been of the boy surrounded by buildings, as time had a certain way of covering it's tracks._

 

_**The world around the Garde was already beginning to shatter, piece by piece...** _

 

 

**Adam**

 

 

I jump as the gecko stretches and contorts itself so it is in the shape of a dog; a beagle or something along those lines, anyway. “No way!” One says beside me. _“_ That's a Chimaera! An actual Chimaera!”

I cock my head to the side. “What the hell's a Chimaera?”

Henri, Hannu and Daniel all break their attention from the lizard-turned-canine to me. Henri shook his head. “Boy, you really weren't kidding about One being in your head, were you?”

“Tell Henri hi from me,” One nudges me, and I smile. “And I remember the incident with the paint,”

“Nope. She's says hi though, and she remembers the paint incident,”

Four raises his eyebrows as Henri turns a peculiar shade of red and shakes his head again. “Hi, One.” He pauses and then blinks. “I'm sorry, but saying that felt weird as hell.” Henri yawns and moves over to the couch to sit down next to Hannu.

Daniel, suddenly lurching up, says, “Wait! Shouldn't we be leaving? To find the other Garde, I mean, it's only a matter of time before the Mogadorians,” He shoots a glance in my direction, and for the first time that day I wondered how the kid was taking this all in. “Figure out the charm is broken. They're all in trouble, we have to get to them before they do.”

“Yes, but not right now, though. I'm tired as shit, and I think you guys are too. We'll leave in the morning. Go get some sleep, I'll take the couch, Adam can have my bed, Three can have Daniels' bed and Daniel can sleep on the floor.”

“Hey!” Was the indignant reply of the Cêpan's young Garde and I snorted. Hannus' mouth slipped into a lopsided grin.

“Nice pout,”

“I am not pouting!” Four promptly pouted, sending Hannu and I into synchronised guffaws. When I can finally breathe again, Henri is leaning against the door with an amused expression on his face. “Fine, I'll take the floor, you take the couch Daniel.”

My face red, I look around at the three people who I've gotten along so well with in the last few hours. I think I'm going to like this new life as a Mogadorian turned Loric ally.

I think I'm going to like it a lot.

“Yeah,” says One, “It's gonna be pretty awesome,”

“Now, you guys go get some sleep, you look like you've been in the Ocean,” Henri turns away and opens the door he's been leaning against.

“We have,” Hannu grins.

“My point exactly, now go to bed. We leave in the morning. We have to find the the others before something bad happens to one of the other Garde. Before they end up in hospital – or worse.”

We go to bed after he says that.

 

**Nine**

 

 

When I wake up, I'm in a hospital bed, and it isn't an experience I'm familiar, or to be honest, comfortable with.

The walls of the room are white, and the smell – it's sickening. Groaning, I sit up and immediately an alarm goes off. Not expecting the sudden sound, I gasp, and suddenly a hand is grabbing mine. My head turns to the left.

_Sandor._

The events of what had happened came rushing back to me; the Mogadorian in the elevator, being shot in the leg, waking up, getting out of the car, and then nothing.

What the hell happened?

Sandor, probably seeing the look on my face, gives me a wry grin. “You collapsed, young ward. From blood loss. Had to take you to the hospital. Bloody gang members, hey?” Before I can ask him what he's doing, a woman in a white uniform opens the door to the room.

“Ah, Stanley, I see you're awake, your Uncle explained what happened and the police are putting out a warning for the gang which attacked you. You're lucky you came in when you did, your injures could have been a lot worse. I'm Dr Martinez, by the way.”

Gang, I think. Must be a cover story Sandor came up with while I was out for the count. My eyes turn to the window, it's daylight, probably early afternoon. I turn my attention back to Dr Martinez, who's giving what appears to be an attempt at a reassuring smile.

She's got red hair, which is up in a pony tail, and a professional aura which suggests she's been doing this job for years.

“I have to say, you're quite lucky, you lost such a large amount of blood, you seem to be recovering quite well though,”

“On the other hand, I'm afraid the injury to your leg was severe, and I know this my be some... traumatic news for you, but,” I feel a change in tension in the room as Sandor squeezes my hand. _Why is he doing that?_

Dr Martinez has an almost sympathetic look on her face, and the next few words she say make me want to throw up.

“The injury was odd, your tendons were severely damaged and showed signs of being scorched, I'm not sure it can be healed. I'm so sorry, Stanley, I'm afraid there's a possibility you'll never walk again.”

 

 


End file.
